A Story Never Told
by Starlit Skyline
Summary: Pre-Quest. My version on how Doom and Dain met. I don't own Deltora Quest or the cover image, it belongs to WingedWarrior7 from deviantART.


Pre-Quest. This is my version of Doom and Dain's first meeting.

It was irritating - no, irritating did not even begin to describe it, how the empty chatter and noise of the small town gave his the worst of headaches, how the mere presence of people made his skin crawl. Look at them, all the nameless townsfolk as they scatter all over the main street, living - or at least pretending to live – peaceful lives.

Blissful ignorance, how could they deceive themselves so? It was a temporary illusion, a false sense of security and a fleeting memory of peace ended long ago, and for what? A self-imposed dream is a dream nonetheless, the illusion would shatter upon waking.

So why? Why play pretend and make the inevitable devastation even worse? Doom did not understand, that self-imposed circle of deceit that ruled the minds of common, everyday people.

It was under his pride, crazy in his opinion even, to play such tricks on his own mind and heart, to further thrust the dagger into raw flesh and old wounds.

No, he would not allow himself. He would not be so self-centered and selfish to allow himself to be ignorant to the troubles and pain of the rest of the world. If these fools had the nerve to live by their own lies, so be it.

Finally, Doom found what he was looking for and approached a stand fool of vegetables, bread and other kinds of food. It was a prosperous town of merchants, just as Steven had claimed. This particular stall was next to a narrow alleyway, he could walk through it to avoid the crowds of the city when he was done. Had he not been low on supplies he would not have even stopped here, but it was necessary.

He grunted at the old woman behind the stand as she greeted him. Doom eyed her merchandise carefully, before finally resting his gaze on the bread, he was not picky, and he did not have the money to be.

It was then that he saw it, and apparently, the old hag saw it too.

"Oh, no you don't!" she screeched, grabbing the small hand that had been reaching for the loaf of bread at the far end "You won't get away this time, you little brat!" and with that the old hag yanked the hand towards her and a small boy stumbled out from the alley.

Doom found it hard not to stare, the condition the child was in was unfathomable, especially since this was one of the more wealthier towns in the area.

Old, tattered rags hug of a thin, bony body. Doom could see the child's ribs from the holes in the loose shirt, too big for such a small frame. Grime clung to the boy's skin, dark hair greasy and cloths coated with mud and filth.

"Ouch! That hurts!" it cried, trying in vain to free its' hand from the woman's grasp "Let go! Please!"

The hag only scoffed "No! This is the last time you steal from me, street rat! I'm taking you to the Gray Guards and they'll throw you into the town dungeons for theft!"

The child's eyes widened and a look of pure fear crossed it's face "No, please! I have no money! I can't pay you! I'm starving! I'm sorry, I didn't mean to!"

"No money, no food!" she bellowed, wrinkled face contorted in rage.

'_What a sickening sight,' _Doom thought as he watched the scene going on in front of him _'Is this bag of bones so blind that she cannot see how thin this kid is?' _The answer was obvious and Doom felt a bitter rage rise inside of him _'Of course she cannot, she only cares about her own profit.'_

"Madam, that will not be necessary." he said, keeping his voice calm and even "I have some business with the local Gray Guards and I believe I can escort this…" he trailed off, sparing a glance at the desperate look on the child's face "…thief, to their base."

"Oh, wonderful!" she said, smiling "Now, how many loaves of bread would you like, dear?"

"None."

And with that he set off, the child's hand firmly in his own, into the crowd of the main street.

The two walked without speaking, but, nonetheless, they attracted many curious glances. Many passerby had openly stared at them, some shooting the kid expressions of disgust and disdain. Doom only scowled, and so, many avoided him as he passed – in all honesty, he preferred it that way.

Doom cast a look over his shoulder, the child did not meet his gaze, choosing instead to keep its' eyes trained on the road ahead. It did not struggle, surprisingly, it knew it was futile. Most tried to escape, to desperately get away – not to mention most were three to four times older that this kid.

When they passed by the building that served as the entrance to the underground dungeons, Doom did not stop, did not even glance at the place and, without hesitation, continued on his way.

Doom knew what it felt like to be a slave, and he would not send this child to that hell.

Again, he looked over his shoulder as they passed it. The boy's eyes were wide as he watched the prison, before locking them with Doom's, silent awe mirrored in innocent, violet irises. Doom looked away, suddenly uncomfortable.

When they were out of the city and its' periphery, the boy finally spoke. "You save me," he had said, tone uncertain, as if asking if the statement was true.

Doom halted, turning so he would face the seven-year-old "Yes, I did. Would you have proffered I left you with the Gray Guards?"

The boy's wide eyes filled with fear "No," he whimpered.

Doom scolded "What's your name kid?" the boy only murmured in return, violet eyes downcast. "What?"

"D-Dain, sir…" he stuttered out, meeting the man's gaze after a moment's hesitation.

"Where's your family?" the child hesitated "Well?" the look in his eyes told Doom all he needed to know.

"Ah, so you have no where to go and no one to go to." It was a statement, not a question, but the boy nodded nevertheless.

There was silence after that.

Dain still made not a single move to get away, not that he could while Doom was still holding his forearm. A thought crossed Doom's mind then and he let go. What was he doing anyway? He was planning and making an organization, a Resistance, against the Shadow Lord! What was he going to do with a starved seven-year-old? Leave him with a nanny? - though Jinx taking care of children was an amusing thought. Still, the man would probably scare the kid out of his own skin.

He looked down at Dain, who still hadn't moved, probably expecting to be knocked down if he did. And yet, the violet pools that were his eyes were full of dim hope. Dim, because Dain stayed rooted to the spot on which he stood, apparently accepting whatever fate Doom would bestow upon him.

Doom started walking away, then, he paused. Should he really leave Dain to fend for himself, alone and helpless? An involuntary shudder ran down his spine, _did the real Doom leave you to die?_ Then and there, he made his decision.

"Are you coming or not?" he called, looking over his shoulder slightly.

Dain's eyes widened momentarily and he took an unsure step forward, looking at Doom warily. Doom's stern gaze did not waver, but instead of running away, Dain took another step toward the stranger, hastily crossing the rest of the way when Doom began to walk again. He, despite being so small, was surprisingly quick. He caught up and fell in pace with Doom in a matter of moments, staying only a few steps behind.

So, what do you think? Worth leaving a review?


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